


she's so cool with it, she's down with it

by ggwynbleidd



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Consensual Infidelity, F/M, Non-Explicit Sex, mentions of magseth but it feels unfair to tag it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28826547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ggwynbleidd/pseuds/ggwynbleidd
Summary: There's nothing wrong with it - don't want it any other way.Or, Magnus and Amber are left alone.
Relationships: Amber/Magnus Hammersmith
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	she's so cool with it, she's down with it

“You don’t talk a lot.”

“Seth talks enough for the both of us.”

She watches the drama in how his eyes shift, how his head swivels like an owl. The alcohol pooling in her veins casts politeness to the side and she finds herself staring at the blind eye - the way it pivots and darts in its socket, the slight hang of his eyelid, the unpleasant grey-brown milkiness.

“Seth's not here,” Magnus declares finally.

It is, after all, just the two of them in the little...her brain recoils at the term... _house room_. Seth had offered her a place to stay when her roommates got to be too much, Seth had offered him a place to crash that wasn’t a van with a bare twin mattress. Amber finds it funny. She’s smarter than Seth thinks, and she thinks Magnus is smarter too. She can almost imagine the loops of images Seth is playing in his own head as he’s out on this brave booze and weed run in the bitter cold.

Amber feels like it’s a setup. She knows it’s a setup. Seth putting his pretty girlfriend in a room with that new guy he’s hanging out with, alone except for his television and an old bottle of Kahlua. She herself is a test of loyalty and friendship and it prods at her brain in a way that doesn’t sit well with her. Because she knows Seth expects her to fearfully whisper “Your creepy friend-” in his ear as she hugs him close when he walks through the door. And Seth wants to puff out his skinny chest in a declaration of machismo and declare “You touched my woman-”

“He isn’t, no,” she agrees.

There’s that knowledge between the two of them. Seth is under the impression that Amber is flypaper, and Magnus is a fly; as if she’s not a glistening black spider with a red hourglass on her belly, and Seth doesn’t know he’s the same type of fly as Magnus.

She pauses at the metaphor she’s created and decides that she has to stop hanging out with so many creepy goths.

“He’ll be gone for a while,” Magnus states it as casually as one can state something so heavy with innuendo. “Only open liquor store is far as shit, that weed guy lives in the middle of nowhere…”

And yet he has left enough room for the holy ghost between the two of them on this futon.

“So, get to talkin’, honey,” it’s said with an almost comical leer.

The movie, some gore-infested horror flick of screaming women and bloody machetes, casts a ghostly light on him. Highlights the wry smile on his face, the wrinkles around his eyes and the gauntness of his face. Magnus reminds her of a friend of her dad’s. Not a specific person, but he carries the general aura of a leathery-faced biker with a felony or two tucked under his belt, the sort her dad hung around with. She had learned to stop being scared of those people a long time ago, because half the time those same men had gone to the doorstep of a creepy ex-boyfriend, or let her play with the puppies their pitbull had spat out under the porch. They were softies, and if they weren't naturally, they could be manipulated into being soft.

As her hand reaches out for his face, Magnus rears his head back.

“You ever think you talk too much?” Amber asks as her fingers tangle in that stupid billy goat beard.

Seth has been gone for, what, five minutes? And Magnus is right. The only available liquor store is a ways off. Roger always draws Seth in with at least ten minutes of conversation to go with his shitty dirt weed, and he lives in Bumfuck, Egypt to boot.

“You ever get called boring?” Magnus shoots back. “Beats me how you make it as a stripper-”

Amber tugs on that beard and Magnus makes a noise she can’t place. But she knows it’s not displeasure.

“I make it because of my shining personality,” she grins as she talks, and her grin broadens as she sees Magnus’ eyes light up. His goading has worked. “Get one, and less people will beat the shit out of you.”

“People don’t beat the shit out of me,” Magnus says haughtily. “I beat the shit out of them.”

Amber knows the crooked bridge of his nose and the little whistle when he breathes and what that all means - an improperly set broken nose, or one that was not set at all. That may have been a car accident, or him pulling a Sonny Bono and slamming into a tree. The eye could have been a tragic childhood accident or some terrible medical condition. The two combined tell Amber a story. Especially when combined with how Magnus acts like such a jackass and how he has all of the charm of dumpster water.

But she humors him and hums through her nose with all of her knowledge and skill in stroking men’s egos. Her fingers are still wrapped in coarse, too-long facial hair and Magnus’ face is approaching her slowly but surely, a tentative hand is coaxing up the hem of her skirt. Her goading has worked, too.

“Do you?” Amber raises her eyebrows.

“I do,” he confirms with breath hot against her throat. “I even beat the shit out of that little man of yours.”

She knows. She knows how Seth had tucked his tail between his legs with a bloodied nose and laid his head in her lap and complained. Amber knows a lot about what Seth and Magnus have been up to.

“And you’ve fucked him, too,” she teases. “Or want to, or whatever.”

Magnus stills his touches. The rough pads of his fingers catch on the soft satin hidden away under her skirt. He draws his hand away entirely and he looks at her under his eyelashes in a way that is almost sheepish.

“You know about that, huh?” he raises his eyebrows in surprise.

The movie has stopped, and she’s not sure when it stopped, but the title screen of the DVD keeps playing on repeat and it’s driving her crazy.

Amber’s smile is as wolfish as the ones Magnus has given her.

“What’s good for the gander is good for the goose, or whatever,” it’s spoken against his ear, soft and breathy, and she feels Magnus shiver. There’s a little gold earring in his ear and her tongue darts out to touch it before her teeth nip at the soft flesh of his earlobe.

And Seth comes back to a new movie playing, and room for the holy ghost between the people he left, and he’s none the wiser but wise enough. He looks at the two of them and nods to himself in approval as if they both passed some kind of test. But he somehow doesn’t see the vivid purples and reds sucked onto Magnus’ skin that are barely concealed by the collar of his jacket. And Amber isn’t even sure if he’s trying to cover them at all. All Amber does is surreptitiously sit on the little wet spot under her and she knows that one day Seth will clean and find the thong she was wearing tonight, tossed in some far off corner.

**Author's Note:**

> if you made it this far, thank you and my apologies. i do not know what possessed me to do this.


End file.
